Technicolor Dreams

I pricked myself with the syringe and watched as the drug flowed into my veins. With a smile, I laid in bed and hoped it would never stop.

It would usually come in the wee hours of the morning, when everyone but the restless was asleep. It filled my head with improbable wishes, explosive dreams, and unreal realities. With it, I could touch sounds and feel colors, hear sights and see textures. It was a festival of sensations, and it was a bliss to experience.

But then, a shadow would cross my eyes and turn my world into a monotone. That’s when I became afraid.

The darkness would spread, and I would feel the tightness in my chest, the straining screech in my ears, the ache in my head that promised never to go away. All the beauty of my previous ethereal world would vanish, its color and life drained. I would see only grays, light grays and dark grays. I would feel only pain.

In this state, I would writhe in pain and wish someone would make it stop.

So tonight, before I got hit by the darkness once more, I would prepare my tools, my body, myself. I would slip into my ethereal world, and I would live in it forever.

I soon heard the technicolor beat, the signal that I was slipping into my fairy-like dreamworld. As I felt the first seizure come, I smiled, hoping, knowing it would never stop now. I closed my eyes.

–

Image source: deviantart.com/cjheery/art/Life-In-Technicolor-443813480
First written April 13, 2018.
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